


Hands of Time

by clandestine_xo



Category: EXO (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestine_xo/pseuds/clandestine_xo
Summary: If only I could turn back the clock, I’d find you sooner, be with you longer, love you better. If only time was kind to us.





	Hands of Time

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** 32  
>  **Prompt:** Sehun has been miserable for months because of the death of his boyfriend, Jeonghan. Drunk, he prayed to any god who could hear him. His prayer was answered in the form of an old watch. When he woke up, Jeonghan was cooking breakfast. Upon checking the calendar, it was a week before Jeonghan's death.  
>  **Note:** I know my prompter asked for fluff and angst, but this is around 70% angst lol
> 
> I took plenty of inspiration from the movie _If Only_ , so anyone who's seen that may find parts of the plot familiar.
> 
> I hope everyone likes this!

Sehun rakes his eyes around the room, from the pile of clothes on the bed to the boxes littered across the floor. In the midst of the hammering in his chest, he fights off the tears that threaten to fall. He has five years worth of memories to pack up, and he’s not sure he’s strong enough to deal with the nostalgia they bring. Jeonghan was always the better one between them.

It’s been three months. He wonders when the pain will stop. How long until the grief of losing the love of his life finally loosen the grip it has on his heart?

He starts folding the clothes on the bed, picking up a sweater on top of the pile. Sehun smiles wistfully as his fingers brush against the fabric, remembering how the pale blue looked against Jeonghan’s skin, how the sleeves were too long and went down over his hands. Tears start falling then, drops staining the cloth in his hands. He buries his face against the fabric, inhaling the faint scent of Jeonghan’s perfume. It’s fading too fast for his liking.

“I can’t do this.”

Sehun throws the sweater to the floor, dashing out of the room and out the door. He finds himself going around the city aimlessly, riding trains and buses to nowhere in particular. He knows he’s just prolonging the inevitable. It doesn’t help that Jeonghan haunts him no matter where he goes, every shop, corner, and street bearing a memory they shared. It’s a numbing experience, but he still feels too much.

He makes the mindless decision to enter a convenience store, pulling out bottle after bottle of soju. The cashier looks at him warily as she scans his purchases. He doesn’t really give a damn if no one comes in to buy alcohol at two in the afternoon, impatiently tapping his foot as she counts his change. Sehun bolts out the door as the cashier hands over the bag, barely registering her polite yet shaky farewell.

The trip home is a blur. He’s sure the bottle he chugged at the back of the bus didn’t help any. He can only be so glad that the early afternoon commute meant barely any passengers were on to witness him drinking.

Sehun slumps on the living room floor, back settling uncomfortably against the sofa, downing gulp after gulp of alcohol to numb the pain. He drinks himself into a stupor, hoping that it’s enough to give him a dreamless sleep.

“Why me?” he voices out into his empty apartment. “Why did it have to be him?”

His frustration boils over, mustering enough strength to blindly throw an empty bottle against the wall. He misses whatever mark he was aiming for, hearing a series of dull thuds as his fit resulted in toppling a box of Jeonghan’s trinkets over. Something catches the light streaming through the window, twinkling in his periphery as if it was mocking him.

Sehun stands up on unsteady legs, stumbling across the room to pick up the fallen item. It was an old watch, one with a yellowing glass face and withering leather straps. He thinks it’s one that Jeonghan kept for sentimentality. He puts the watch on, smiling ruefully at random memories when his boyfriend defended the need to keep one broken item or another. It brings tears to his eyes. Clearly, the alcohol wasn’t enough to put the pain at the back of his mind.

He no longer has the energy nor the sobriety to do another soju run, deciding to just retire to bed and deal with the mess of his life whenever he wakes up. It’s just another unremarkable day without Jeonghan.

If only he had paid enough attention, he would have noticed the watch was running backwards.

 

* * *

 

Sehun wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache. It wasn’t at all surprising, but he’s thrown out of sorts when he realizes what woke him up in the first place. There were sounds of pottering in the kitchen, the smell of bacon filtering through the gap under his bedroom door. He springs up in alertness when he notices the state of his room, winter clothes neatly stacked at the foot of his bed and boxes lined against the far wall. He takes a quick glance at the clock, picking up the two pieces of aspirin and glass of water, and downing the pills to alleviate his hangover. He guesses he has to thank Jongin or Kyungsoo, or perhaps both, for being kind enough to drop in.

He gets up once the world stopped spinning long enough, washing his face and brushing his teeth to get rid of the remnants of yesterday’s binge. Whatever mess he’s left as, his friends will just have to deal with it.

Sehun starts talking the second he exits his bedroom, expressing his gratitude and apologies for helping clean up after himself. He expects a boisterous laugh from Jongin or a snarky remark from Kyungsoo. What he gets instead makes his blood run cold.

“Were you dreaming about hanging out with them and woke up thinking it was real?”

Sehun’s eyes go wide in disbelief, mouth opening and closing but failing to form any words. In the past three months, he’s gotten used to a lifeless home with dishes and takeout boxes littering the sink and dining table, dirty clothes haphazardly thrown over furniture or lining the floor. He presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, as if rubbing them would clear his vision. When he opens them again, he gets a bemused look in return. It wasn’t an illusion.

Jeonghan, with long hair flowing past his shoulders and pink apron wrapped around his waist, was standing in their kitchen. Alive.

He’s not sure what happens after that, but the next time Sehun opens his eyes, he’s lying on the couch with Jeonghan’s worried face above him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to work today,” he mutters. “But I know you have that big presentation later this week and you probably have lots to do still. Do you think they’ll allow you to come in late, or maybe work from home instead? I don’t want you driving when you’re clearly too hungover to function.”

“What day is it?” Sehun asks, thoroughly confused.

“I kept telling you it’s not a good idea to drink so much on a Sunday night,” Jeonghan says, voice fond despite the judging side eye he flashes his boyfriend. “It’s December 18th, 7AM on a Monday, so you have an hour to get ready for work.”

Jeonghan’s mouth is still moving but Sehun doesn’t hear anything else past the date. “That’s not possible,” he mumbles to himself. Yesterday was a Friday in March, snow already melting to give way to spring.

“What?”

Sehun remains silent, mind running a mile a minute. He knows Jeonghan died on December 22nd, the lone casualty from a multiple car collision on ice-slicked roads. He’d been mourning for months, unable to handle the grief and unaccepting of the fact that the love of his life was gone. Yet here they are. He thinks it’s some elaborate dream that he needs to wake up from.

“You really should stay home,” Jeonghan suggests, lips downturned into a frown. “I’m sure your boss will understand. You can say you’ll work on the presentation here.”

As much as Sehun wants to, if only to revel in Jeonghan’s presence for however long it may be, he knows it’s not real. He decides to just go through the motions, insisting he’s fine and saying he need to go to the office. What he really means is he doesn’t want to spend time with Jeonghan in this dream only to wake up with more heartache.

The rest of the day passes by in surreal fashion. He’s done everything from slapping and pinching himself to drinking unhealthy amounts of caffeine, but he was still stuck in some parallel universe of a dream. Sehun faces an assault of memories from months back, yet somehow it’s happening in his present.

Everything falls into the same place. He attends meetings to get a business proposal going, spends hours on a presentation, forgets to tell Jeonghan that he’s coming home late. And once he comes home, he finds the man asleep and looking vulnerable on the couch, the dining table set with a cold meal for two. And just as he did months ago, Sehun picks Jeonghan up to tuck him in bed, following him into dreamland after storing the food away.

He wakes up the next day to the sound of a crash and a yelp. If memory serves him right, Jeonghan is rushing after forgetting to set his alarm, doing five things at once in hopes of making it to his class on time.

“Sehun, if you’re awake, please help me,” his boyfriend pleads.

“Breakfast?” he mumbles, though he already knows the answer.

He follows Jeonghan into the bathroom, doing his business while keeping an eye out on the other. His boyfriend furiously runs a towel against his hair, drying up as much of the moisture he can before ironing his locks straight. He’ll be in the kitchen when it happens.

Sehun starts counting as he prepares peanut butter sandwiches for them to munch on. He’s at 50 when Jeonghan cries in pain, taking a few seconds to calm himself before reassuring Sehun that he was okay. He accidentally clips his left wrist with the flat iron, the hot edge burning against his skin enough to make it red and tender. Sehun remembers not having any ointment to help cool it down, leaving Jeonghan to run it under cold water instead.

It’s a mad rush after that. Jeonghan wolfs down his sandwich and leaves a sticky kiss on Sehun’s cheek, apologizing for leaving a mess as he runs out the door.

On Wednesday morning, Jeonghan reminds him about the music recital for his students that Friday, sticking his ticket on the refrigerator door so he won’t forget. They also have reservations for dinner on Saturday noted on a post-it beside the ticket.

Thursday is when things start to go downhill.

Sehun heads to work early so he can do last minute preparations for his annual business presentation, making Jeonghan panic when he sees a manila folder left on the dining table. He’s afraid that Sehun may have left an important file, rushing to his boyfriend’s office building in hopes to hand it over before his big meeting.

Unfortunately, the meeting starts at promptly 9AM, right as Jeonghan crashes into Sehun’s office, startling everyone in the adjacent conference room. They have a screaming match later that night. Rather, Sehun tears into Jeonghan for embarrassing him in front of higher ups, not even taking a breath to hear his boyfriend’s apologies.

On Friday, Sehun gets caught up with a business partner, barely making it to the music recital. He only manages to sit down to hear the last notes coming from Jeonghan’s favorite student, all while avoiding his boyfriend’s disappointed stare.

They have a muted argument outside the concert hall, stiff smiles on their faces as parents and students alike congratulate Jeonghan for the show’s success. Sehun wants nothing more than to leave, but his boyfriend just had to be welcoming towards a sniveling boy expressing his utmost gratitude. He makes an underhanded comment about the mess he’s making of himself. He doesn’t give a damn if Seungkwan is Jeonghan’s favorite.

The young boy gets flustered, hastily muttering his sorry and goodbye.

“I can’t believe you,” Jeonghan says darkly.

Sehun doesn’t try to fake an apology, choosing to stomp off outside, not even checking if Jeonghan was following. He was, of course, staying a few paces behind as they both walk to the parking lot. The car ride home is silent, tension growing thicker by the second.

Jeonghan rushes out of the car before Sehun can even kill the engine, making the older boy heave a deep sigh. He knows he’s sleeping on the couch tonight.

On Saturday morning, Sehun gets called for a brunch meeting with his boss. Despite the mishap of Jeonghan’s unexpected arrival at the office two days prior, the board was more than impressed with his presentation. He haphazardly scribbles a note for Jeonghan, leaving the boy asleep. Sehun knows his boyfriend doesn’t like getting up before noon on a weekend.

Brunch with his boss turns into an impromptu lunch outing with some business partners, which transitions into late afternoon cocktails. Sehun passes on refills after his second glass, explaining that he had a dinner to get to and how he needs to sober up to make the drive back.

He hears grumbling from a few of the men, some thinly-veiled insults about how a clumsy boy like Jeongan was just a hindrance to his career. “You are lucky you’ve done impeccable work. If there was even just the smallest flaw with your proposal, we wouldn’t have signed the contract with your company. If there’s anything we don’t like, it’s men who have too many distractions around. Your boy is pretty, but surely he’s not worth as much as your career.”

Sehun’s breath catches in his throat, smiling stiffly as his boss cracks a joke while giving him a warning glance. He knows Junmyeon only means well, and is glad that he was quick witted enough to intervene. He says just as much when they finally part ways.

“Don’t take it too seriously,” Junmyeon advises. “After this, we only have to work with things on our end and leave it to Baekhyun and everyone in marketing to deal with them. If it means anything, I think Jeonghan is good for you.”

There was no elaboration needed. Sehun has heard praises for his boyfriend around the office and among his friends.

“Don’t you have a dinner to get to?”

“Shit,” Sehun hisses, the furrow between his brows deepening when he catches the time. “I’ll see you on Monday!”

Junmyeon hollers for him to drive safe and to say hello to Jeonghan for him, waving as Sehun passes.

He gets caught in traffic, forcing his decision to not go home and just go as is. After switching his sneakers with the loafers he keeps in the trunk, he’s sure his button up and dark jeans will be passable.

The snow starts falling when he was still twenty minutes away, causing traffic to go even slower as the visibility drops. He makes it to the restaurant after an hour, thirty minutes late for their reservation. They don’t allow him entry into the establishment due to a strictly formal dresscode. Why Jeonghan had chosen this place was beyond him. Sehun calls his boyfriend to meet him outside, saying how they can just go somewhere else.

Jeonghan exits in a flurry, expression hard as he stares his boyfriend down. “You know what?” he starts, tone scathing. “I’m done.”

Sehun doesn’t stop him from scurrying down the street, hastily getting into a parked cab, and probably tearfully screaming at the driver to take him home. Sehun takes a shaky breath as the taxi peels away from the curb.

At a seemingly clear intersection two blocks down, that cab will go as soon as the light goes green. It drives right into the path of a pickup truck that ran a red, hitting the passenger side with a force strong enough to turn the taxi around, another car that failed to hit the brakes early colliding with it again before sandwiching the cab against a street post.

All Sehun can think of is how Jeonghan likes to lean his head against the window, imagining how painful it must have been for that truck to hit his side, how hard he was jostled across the back seat, how helpless he felt as emergency responders did everything they could to get him and the cab driver out as fast as they can.

Sehun finds himself in the back of the ambulance, face ashen as paramedics work to keep Jeonghan alive. He knows how it ends, tears falling at having to relive it again. He was hoping for a different ending, or to at least have woken up long before this point. He wants for nothing more but to hold Jeonghan’s hand, tell him he’s sorry, and that he loves him beyond words can say.

Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, and Jongin find Sehun alone in front of the emergency room, sitting ramrod straight as if he was preparing for a scolding.

“How is he?” Junmyeon asks breathlessly as Jongin and Kyungsoo take a seat on either side of Sehun, gripping his hands as a feeble means of support.

“He’s gone. They couldn’t save him,” Sehun replies, words turning into sobs at each word that passes his lips.

None of his friends know what to say. Jeonghan had become a part of their lives too, thinking the best of him and saying how he’s Sehun’s perfect match. While Sehun has lost the love of his life, Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, and Jongin had lost a good friend.

“If you need anything,” Jongin starts after several minutes of heavy silence. “We’re here, ok?”

Kyungsoo and Junmyeon nod in agreement, the former excusing himself to talk to a doctor and nurse about any procedures they need to take care of.

Sehun takes deep breaths to quiet his cries before speaking again. “I need to call Seungcheol.”

 

~°~°~°~°~°~

 

Christmas should have been a happy affair for everyone, but Jeonghan’s death brought along a sadness none of them could cope with. None of Sehun’s family or friends were able to console him, and Seungcheol’s arrival with Jisoo only brought more tension.

As Jeonghan’s best friends, they predictably took the news just as hard as Sehun. But given how it’s been a while since they all met, Sehun is left at a loss at the anger coming off in waves from the two. Everyone can only be so grateful they kept civil long enough to give Jeonghan some peace.

It’s after the funeral that they have their row, Seungcheol’s fist meeting Sehun’s cheek as soon as most people have gone. Kyungsoo drops to his knees beside Sehun, turning the boy’s face over to check the damage, while Jongin gets between his friend and Seungcheol. Junmyeon was trying to diffuse the situation, with Jisoo just standing by with a sneer on his face.

“This is all your fault,” Seungcheol says darkly.

“It was an accident!” Junmyeon interjects in defense. “Sehun wasn’t the one who ran a red light. He didn’t ask for it to snow hard to make the roads dangerous.”

“You came late, right?” Jisoo asks, perhaps the first words he spoke ever since he and Seungcheol arrived from Japan. His stare made Sehun feel like he was looking right through him, judging his very existence. “He called us that night.”

“He called us for every night you did something,” Seungcheol adds. “Good or bad news, he didn’t care. He just wanted someone to listen.”

“We should have tried harder to stop him from moving back here with you,” Jisoo continues with a dry laugh. “He was giving up too much for you and you were too selfish to give just as much back. And look where that got him.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jongin interrupts. He wasn’t going to stand there to watch his friend be more torn apart than he already was. “You don’t know how much Sehun loves Jeonghan! You have no right to be all high and mighty about their relationship when you haven’t been around.”

“Haven’t we?” Seungcheol asks with a knowing smirk, eyes looking directly at Sehun. “I was here not long ago, remember? The three of us were supposed to have dinner together, but Jeonghan calls me ahead to say that you weren’t going to make it. I still insisted on having dinner with just him because I haven’t seen him for a while.”

Sehun shuts his eyes at the reminder. If the looks Jisoo and Seungcheol were anything to go by, he knows there’s a lot more that they’re mad about than just skipping a dinner.

“I got there and Jeonghan smiled at me, went up to hug me on unstable legs. I ordered my first beer and he was probably on his fifth. His lips started to open but I couldn’t really understand what he was saying. He was way past being drunk the moment I stepped in. While he was trying to tell me a story of what I think was something that happened at work, I noticed that Jeonghan kept on glancing at his phone that was on the table. The open chat window was yours. Next thing I knew, he was crying. I didn’t know why the tears came, otherwise I would have tried to comfort him the best way I knew how. After a while, he regained composure, then promptly fell asleep.”

Seungcheol pauses, waiting for the weight of his words to sink in before going on with the story.

“It hurts that I had to see him go through that phase. Time and time again, I’ve seen or heard him cry over over someone who put their pride first. I’ve seen Jeonghan make a fool out of himself just because of someone who only cared about his own self. All you needed to do was be there, but he felt like you didn’t care. A single text could have made all the difference.”

Sehun shifts on the balls of his feet, feeling smaller and smaller the more Seungcheol speaks.

“I’m not one to judge, but I shouldn’t have been the one taking care of him and making sure he got home safely. It should have been you. Why wasn’t it you?

“How many times has it happened?” Jisoo interjects. “How many phone calls did Jeonghan make to one of us that was supposed to be for you? Did you know he was about to get a promotion? How about how his favorite student got into the most prestigious arts university in Korea?”

Tears start to fill Sehun’s eyes at the implications they were making. The worst part was that he couldn’t deny his faults in it.

“Here’s the best part,” Jisoo continues with a dark chuckle. “Did you know he got another invite to further his music career in Japan? He got an acceptance letter from a performance center orchestra near Osaka. Can you imagine how fulfilling it would have been for him to finally achieve his dream rather than stay in the background and wait for you to realize that you’re in a relationship with him and not your business partners? He gave up being part of a philharmonic right out of university so he can stay with you. He could have been a principal musician by now. But he chose you, even until his last moments he still chose you.”

“We do like you, you know?” Seungcheol says after several moments of heavy silence. “We’ve seen him with other people, but he was the happiest with you. He was willing to sacrifice so much of himself so he can stay with you. It didn’t matter to him if he was going to be away from us, from the only family he knows. For him, you were home.”

“If only you felt for him as much as he did for you.”

In the midst of the tension that falls among them, an old watch runs backwards and strikes twelve.

 

* * *

 

Sehun wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache. It wasn’t at all surprising, but he’s thrown out of sorts when he realizes what woke him up in the first place. There were sounds of pottering in the kitchen, the smell of bacon filtering through the gap under his bedroom door. A gasp escapes his lips, eyes wide as he realizes he’s back at the start.

He takes a quick glance at the clock, picking up the two pieces of aspirin and glass of water, and downing the pills to alleviate his hangover. Rather than get up, he takes a few moments to gather his bearings, wondering how to deal with facing the exact same sequence of events of Jeonghan’s final week. An idea strikes him right then. Perhaps if he tried to change what’s supposed to happen, Sehun can come to a different ending.

“Need help with anything?” he asks as he exits the bedroom.

Jeonghan jumps at the sound of his voice, turning a confused glance in his direction. Sehun doesn’t really do much when it comes to household chores. Neither of them were fond of the tasks, but one of them had to do it. With Jeonghan having the more lenient schedule, the responsibilities of keeping their home in top shape was left to him.

“You can set the table,” he says after a few moments, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the bacon he was frying.

Sehun twists his mouth in thought as he gathers the plates and utensils from the cupboards, trying to come up with a plan of action for the rest of the week. He remembers how this day comes to an end, and thinks doing something different today is a good start.

“I might be home late,” he says as he finishes setting the table. “I want to work on that proposal for as long as they let me stay in the office. I don’t want to be rushing on presentation day.”

“Oh,” comes Jeonghan’s disappointed sigh. “Should I leave dinner for you to reheat?”

“Nah,” Sehun replies. “I can probably just grab some takeout. You don’t have to wait up for me either. You have an early class tomorrow, don’t forget.”

Jeonghan sports a shocked expression that makes Sehun chuckle under his breath. He almost forgot how cute his boyfriend can get with all the subtleties on his face.

“Let’s eat.”

The rest of the day passes as usual, with Sehun making the extra effort to remind Jeonghan that he was coming home late, even sending a picture of the dinner he ordered to soothe his boyfriend’s worries about a meal. He still finds Jeonghan sleeping on the couch though, the TV playing in the background. Sehun notes that it was showing a rerun of _Moulin Rouge_ , Jeonghan’s all-time favorite film. As Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor sing their undying love for each other, Sehun wonders why he never noticed the movie playing before.

With a slight shake of his head, he turns off the TV, picking up Jeonghan not long after to tuck him into bed. He checks the other’s phone, grateful that he keeps their anniversary as a predictable passcode, setting the alarm for Tuesday’s early morning wake up call.

He feels the jump and hears the groan Jeonghan makes in reaction to the blaring of his phone the next day. Sehun tightens his hold around the other’s waist for a few seconds before releasing him, lightly pushing against the small of Jeonghan’s back to further wake him up.

“Go shower,” he says, voice gravelly. “I hope peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast are fine. I don’t want to accidentally burn the apartment down with any attempts to fry an egg.”

With sleep still muddling his mind, Jeonghan only makes an indistinguishable sound in reply. If he were more awake, Sehun is sure his boyfriend will look at him oddly.

The timely wakeup makes the morning more leisurely. Jeonghan doesn’t burn his arm on his hair iron, but the fresh cup of coffee does scald his tongue. Sehun playfully scolds him, telling his boyfriend to slow down. Jeonghan gives the expected odd look then, but does as he’s told either way. And once the simple meal was finished, he was off, leaving a sticky kiss to Sehun’s cheek in his wake.

On Wednesday morning, Jeonghan reminds him about the music recital for his students that Friday, sticking his ticket on the refrigerator door so he won’t forget. They also have reservations for dinner on Saturday noted on a post-it beside the ticket. Sehun makes a show of inputting the reminders on his phone, setting alarms and adding multiple exclamation points for emphasis. Jeonghan shakes his head at the antics.

Sehun makes sure Thursday doesn’t go downhill.

Instead of leaving their apartment without much notice, he wakes Jeonghan up instead. “Sorry for waking you,” he whispers. “Do you mind making breakfast? I don’t want to go on an empty stomach.”

Despite not needing to get up for at least two more hours, Jeonghan does as his boyfriend asks. It’s the least he can do knowing how important the day was for Sehun.

Sehun smiles triumphantly as Jeonghan makes his way to the kitchen, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What are you so happy about?”

“My success in getting you out of bed that easily,” Sehun quips, snickering as Jeonghan sends him a pout.

Sehun brings his briefcase as they settle at the breakfast table minutes later, making a show of organizing his files for Jeonghan to see. He rifles through two manila folders that look exactly alike, dropping one before tucking the other safely in his bag. Jeonghan asks if he needed it, to which he answers no. That should take care of Jeonghan’s sudden appearance at work.

Friday still sees him arriving late to the music recital, but he makes sure to text Jeonghan and leaves work earlier. He makes it in time to see his boyfriend announce the next performer, his favorite student Boo Seungkwan.

As soon as the boy belts out into the chorus, Sehun understands why he was Jeonghan’s favorite. There was a warm quality to his voice that seemed to soothe his troubles away. He does note how he can hear some strain as Seungkwan approaches the climax of the song. He claps along with the rest of the audience as the boy takes his final bow, repeating the motion for the last two performers before the recital came to an end.

Sehun stands in the background as Jeonghan talks with students and parents after the show closes. Seungkwan is one of the last to approach, sniffling as he repeatedly thanks Jeonghan for all his help. Sehun steps up right then, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket for the boy to use.

“You did good up there,” he says as he extends his hand. “You’re sick, right? I hope I can see another performance of yours when you’re a hundred percent healthy.”

Seungkwan gets flustered as he takes the handkerchief he was being offered, shyly saying his thanks and promising to wash the piece of cloth before giving it back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sehun says with a small smile.

“I can’t believe you,” Jeonghan says breathlessly after Seungkwan waves them goodbye. “Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?”

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“That wasn’t nice,” Jeonghan points out. “That was weird.”

Sehun doesn’t bother to reply, choosing to walk off, not even checking if his boyfriend was following. He was, of course, staying a few paces behind as they both walk to the parking lot. The car ride home was filled with music from the radio and Jeonghan’s happy hums along with it. They sleep in the same bed that night.

On Saturday morning, Sehun gets called for a brunch meeting with his boss. He haphazardly throws his phone back on the bedside table and turns back around, snuggling against Jeonghan’s form. His nose meets the juncture between the other’s neck and shoulder, leaving open-mouthed kisses along his boyfriend’s skin. Sehun takes particular pride in how Jeonghan smells of sweat and sex, smothering his grin against the sleeping boy’s back.

Jeonghan groans as Sehun continues his ministrations, the warm hand on his stomach tickling him as fingers trace random patterns that make his skin prickle. “Too early,” he whines.

“Sorry,” Sehun says, kissing a spot behind his boyfriend’s ear. “I need to go see Junmyeon in a bit. I promise I’ll make it back in time for our dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” Jeonghan sleepily replies. “Be careful. Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sehun responds, tightening his embrace for a few seconds before reluctantly getting up from bed.

Brunch with his boss turns into an impromptu lunch outing with some business partners, which transitions into late afternoon cocktails. Sehun passes on refills after his second glass, explaining that he had a dinner to get to and how he needs to sober up to make the drive back.

He hears grumbling from a few of the men, some crass jokes about celebrating the greenlighting of his latest proposal with his special someone. “Nothing like having some motivation to do better at work, right? I hope your lady knows how good a catch you are.”

“Gentleman, actually,” Sehun corrects politely. “And it’s the other way around. I’m lucky he tolerates me.”

Junmyeon pulls him aside before they finally part ways. “I hope you weren’t insulted over whatever they tried to insinuate with you and Jeonghan. It was good that you corrected them though, shows them you have a strong backbone.”

Sehun arches a brow up in a silent question, to which Junmyeon responds with a knowing smile.

“Don’t you have a dinner to get to?”

“Shit,” Sehun hisses, the furrow between his brows deepening when he catches the time. “I’ll see you on Monday!”

Junmyeon hollers for him to drive safe and to say hello to Jeonghan for him, waving as Sehun passes.

He curses as he gets caught in traffic again, forcing him to go back on his promise to Jeonghan that he was going to make it in time. The snow starts falling when he was still twenty minutes away, causing traffic to go even slower as the visibility drops. Sehun tightens his grip on the steering wheel, straining to think of a way to get out of the impending situation. It wasn’t like he can change the weather.

Realization hits him then. While he can’t do anything about the flurry of snow, he can get Jeonghan out earlier than he would if he were to wait at the restaurant.

_I’m sorry, I know I promised, but I don’t think I’ll make it on time with this weather and traffic jam. How about you get out of there and head home? Takeout and a bottle of wine while cuddled up on the couch sounds better than waiting alone at a stuffy restaurant, right? ;)_

_You’re buying me 3 boxes of chicken every Saturday for an entire month, jsyk. I got all pretty too._

Sehun does a little dance in triumph. His wallet has enough padding to get Jeonghan whatever he wanted for the next month if it means getting him away from the accident. He’s only a few blocks away by now, whistling a tune to himself without care for much else. If he leans far enough to one side, he’ll be able to see the marquee of the restaurant. He can just get off for a few minutes to find dinner for himself and Jeonghan to share at home.

What he doesn’t expect is for the sound of screeching tires and colliding metal to reach his ears, the few stragglers on the street turning curious and terrified glances down the road.

At a seemingly clear intersection several blocks down, a cab driver stepped on the gas as soon as the light went green. It drove right into the path of a pickup truck that ran a red, hitting the passenger side with a force strong enough to turn the taxi around, another car that failed to hit the brakes early colliding with it again before sandwiching the cab against a street post.

Sehun takes several harrowing breaths, thinking how it’s impossible for Jeonghan to have still taken the same cab. The timing was off. It had to be someone else.

But as he sprints towards the site of the accident, he realizes just how cruel fate can get. It was a different cab, Sehun is sure of it because he has the plate number embedded in his mind after Jeonghan died. The truck was a different make and model, even the sedan sandwiching the taxi against the lamp post was another color. The din of the crowd tells him the guy who went into the cab was someone who had just exited the restaurant he was supposed to meet his boyfriend at. And as he watches emergency responders do everything they can to get the driver and the passenger out of the taxi, he knew for sure that everything was just a futile attempt to alter the future.

Somewhere in their apartment, a watch runs backwards and strikes twelve.

 

* * *

 

Sehun wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache. Despite his world spinning, there was little to no confusion left in his mind. He wakes up to the familiar sounds of pottering in the kitchen and the smell of bacon filtering through the gap under his bedroom door. He’s back at the start.

He blindly reaches his hand out to pick up the two pieces of aspirin and the glass of water, downing the pills just as he had the first two times. He lays in bed for several moments, gathering his bearings and coming to the resolution that things will be different this time.

It’s no longer about trying to change what’s supposed to happen. Now, just as Seungcheol and Jisoo had been wanting him to do in his original timeline, it’s about making every second count.

“Need help with anything?” he asks as he exits the bedroom.

Jeonghan jumps at the sound of his voice, turning a confused glance in his direction. Sehun doesn’t really do much when it comes to household chores. Neither of them were fond of the tasks, but one of them had to do it. With Jeonghan having the more lenient schedule, the responsibilities of keeping their home in top shape was left to him.

“You can set the table,” he says after a few moments, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the bacon he was frying.

Sehun doesn’t hesitate to do as his boyfriend says, causing Jeonghan to look at him in curiosity.

“I might be home late,” he says as he finishes setting the table. “I want to work on that proposal for as long as they let me stay in the office. I don’t want to be rushing on presentation day.”

“Oh,” comes Jeonghan’s disappointed sigh. “Should I leave dinner for you to reheat?”

“Nah,” Sehun replies. “I can probably just grab some takeout. You don’t have to wait up for me either. You have an early class tomorrow, don’t forget.”

Jeonghan sports a shocked expression that makes Sehun chuckle under his breath. He almost forgot how cute his boyfriend can get with all the subtleties on his face.

“Let’s eat.”

The rest of the day passes quite unusually for Jeonghan, with Sehun making extra efforts to remind him that he was coming home late, going as far as sending a picture of his dinner. Having the night to himself, Jeonghan settles down on the couch to watch his favorite movie. He smiles ruefully thinking about the soundtrack and how fitting it was to how his story with Sehun ends.

Jeonghan ends up falling asleep before he can even hear Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor sing a note of their undying love for each other. He remembers staying on the couch last night, but Jeonghan wakes up to the blaring of his alarm the following morning, his head pillowed against Sehun’s chest. His boyfriend rouses along with him, tightening his grip around his waist for a few seconds before lightly pushing against the small of Jeonghan’s back.

“Go shower,” Sehun says, voice gravelly. “I hope peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast are fine. I don’t want to accidentally burn the apartment down with any attempts to fry an egg.”

With sleep still muddling his mind, Jeonghan only makes an indistinguishable sound in reply. If he were more awake, he’s likely to flash an odd look Sehun’s way.

The timely wakeup makes his morning preparation more leisurely, allowing Jeonghan to carefully iron his hair. The smell of coffee perks him up the second he makes it to the breakfast table, taking a sip of the scalding liquid and burning his tongue. Sehun playfully scolds him, telling his boyfriend to slow down before cupping his cheeks and pulling him forward for a kiss. Jeonghan gasps at the suddenness of the move, leaving him vulnerable for Sehun to slip his tongue between the seam of his lips. Breakfast was forgotten for several minutes, making him rush out of their apartment, but not before leaving a sticky kiss to Sehun’s cheek in his wake.

On Wednesday morning, Jeonghan reminds Sehun about the music recital for his students that Friday, sticking his ticket on the refrigerator door so he won’t forget. They also have reservations for dinner on Saturday noted on a post-it beside the ticket. Sehun makes a show of inputting the reminders on his phone, setting alarms and adding multiple exclamation points for emphasis. Jeonghan shakes his head at the antics.

Thursday gets even weirder for Jeonghan.

Instead of leaving their apartment without much notice like he usually does, Sehun wakes Jeonghan up. “Sorry for waking you,” he whispers. “Do you mind making breakfast? I don’t want to go on an empty stomach.”

Despite not needing to get up for at least two more hours, Jeonghan does as his boyfriend asks. It’s the least he can do knowing how important the day was for Sehun.

Sehun smiles triumphantly as Jeonghan makes his way to the kitchen, which he can’t help but notice.

“What are you so happy about?”

“My success in getting you out of bed that easily,” Sehun quips, snickering as Jeonghan pouts.

Rather than retort, Jeonghan busies himself with preparing breakfast, mind running a mile a minute thinking about Sehun’s odd behavior. The taller boy had been unexpectedly sweet for the past couple of days, making him wonder if he was somehow part of a hidden camera prank. While the change was welcome, Jeonghan can’t help but imagine he was transported to a parallel universe where an extra loving Sehun lives.

For a while now, Jeonghan has felt like their relationship was reaching its end, with him making most of the effort while Sehun tends to forget he exists. The man who’s been around the past few days reminds him of the boy he first fell in love with. He hopes he can stay.

Sehun brings his briefcase as they settle at the breakfast table some time later, making a show of organizing his files for Jeonghan to see. He rifles through two manila folders that look exactly alike, dropping one before tucking the other safely in his bag. Jeonghan asks if he needed it, to which the answer was no. He wishes Sehun luck on his presentation, earning an enthusiastic kiss in return.

Later that day, Sehun calls him with the news that their business partners had signed on with his idea, with Junmyeon and Baekhyun both hollering praises in the background. Jeonghan laughs at their antics as he congratulates his boyfriend, smiling at the promise of celebrating Sehun’s good fortune that weekend.

Friday is a whirlwind of last-minute preparations for the music recital. Jeonghan rushes from one part of the event hall to another, making sure to check on his students in between. Several of them are nervous, and understandably so given how many talent scouts they were expecting in the audience. He remembers when he was in a similar spot just two years ago, wondering if his performance was good enough to get him an invite to join a prestigious group of concert musicians.

It was a few minutes before the show starts when Jeonghan felt himself being pulled away from the busy backstage hallway. He’s pleasantly surprised when he realizes who the culprit was and what he had in his hands. He was expecting Sehun to arrive midway through the recital, with his work hours coinciding with the concert. Yet here there he was, complete with a bouquet of pink carnations and a kiss to Jeonghan’s cheek.

“Whatever happens tonight,” Sehun whispers against his ear. “You did a fantastic job teaching these kids. I’m proud of you.”

Jeonghan has tears welling in his eyes throughout the night, his boyfriend’s words still ringing in his head. It doesn’t help that he can see Sehun in the audience from his spot backstage, the tall man clapping enthusiastically and looking like he was having fun watching. Jeonghan notices how Sehun sits at the edge of his seat when his favorite student, a singer named Boo Seungkwan, takes the stage. He wonders if the pride he has for the young boy measures up to the light shining in Sehun’s eyes.

After the curtain falls, Jeonghan worries that Sehun will get bored as he talks to students, parents, and scouts. He has half a mind to tell his boyfriend to go on ahead, that he can just take a cab home once he wraps everything up. But Sehun refuses to move from his spot, one hand on the small of Jeonghan’s back as a silent form of support.

His heart swells as he watches Sehun interact with Seungkwan, his boyfriend’s kind acts of complimenting his student’s performance and expressing worry over his health was beyond touching.

Seungkwan gets flustered as he takes the handkerchief he was being offered, shyly saying his thanks and promising to wash the piece of cloth before giving it back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sehun says with a small smile.

“I can’t believe you,” Jeonghan says breathlessly after Seungkwan waves them goodbye. “Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?”

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“That wasn’t nice,” Jeonghan points out. “That was weird.”

Sehun doesn’t grace him with a retort, choosing to walk off without another glance at him. Jeonghan follows suit, of course, staying a few paces behind as they both walk to the parking lot. The car ride homes was filled with music from the radio and their joyful humming along with it.

Jeonghan heads straight to the couch, letting out a sigh as he plops down, half of his limbs hanging off the side. Sehun chuckles as he leans against the wall, fond smile tugging at his lips with how content his boyfriend looks.

“You did an amazing job,” he says.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan calls out, a hint of insecurity lacing his tone.

Sehun doesn’t let the question hang longer than it should. But rather than give a verbal answer, he takes purposeful strides to the couch. He gently prods at Jeonghan to move allowing him to sit and cradle the other’s head against his chest.

“Yeah,” Sehun replies, pressing a kiss against Jeonghan’s hair.

Jeonghan turns in Sehun’s arms, straining his neck to reach the other’s mouth. It’s all he can do to prevent tears from falling at the praise he received. How long has he waited for his boyfriend’s recognition? He gives his all into the kiss, lips moving fervently against each other with each passing second.

Sehun expertly moves their bodies within the limited space, ending up with Jeonghan on top of him, legs on either side to straddle his hips. Sehun locks his hands at the small of his back, keeping him in place as he rocks upwards. Jeonghan’s whimper gives just enough of an opening for Sehun’s tongue to slip past his slips, deepening the kiss.

Sehun’s hands move to grip at his hips, guiding their lower halves into a steady rhythm of delicious friction. Jeonghan’s moans are muffled between their mouths as he grows achingly hard. He pulls away just a fraction, voice barely above a whisper as he begs for Sehun to take him to bed.

Jeonghan still doesn’t know what’s gotten into his boyfriend, but he will take anything and everything he can get. Sehun’s ministrations are painstakingly slow, prolonging their lovemaking for as long as he could until Jeonghan begs for more, more, more. He’ll forever keep the memory of how much love he finds in Sehun’s eyes as they both reach their peaks, lips seeking each other’s as they ride out their bliss.

Jeonghan scrunches his nose when the ringing of the phone breaks through his slumber. He knows he’ll be unable to fall back asleep when Sehun’s movement to answer slightly jostles him. In his half awake state, Jeonghan swallows his sigh, knowing how his boyfriend was prone to take work calls even on a weekend.

His disappointment quickly turns into surprise when Sehun snuggles back against him, nose meeting the juncture between his neck and shoulder, leaving open-mouthed kisses against his skin. Jeonghan hears the other take a deep breath before feeling the formation of a grin against his neck, making him recall how Sehun turns all alpha male whenever he smells like him.

There’s only so much he can do in pretending to still be asleep when Sehun traces random patterns against his stomach, the light touches tickling him further awake. “Too early,” he whines.

“Sorry,” Sehun says, kissing a spot behind his boyfriend’s ear. “I need to go see Junmyeon in a bit. I promise I’ll make it back in time for our dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” Jeonghan sleepily replies. “Be careful. Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sehun responds, tightening his embrace for a few seconds before reluctantly getting up from bed.

Jeonghan just lazes in bed as Sehun washes up and gets dressed. The other barely looks at him as he exits the bedroom, muttering how difficult he makes it by looking so inviting. Jeonghan laughs wholeheartedly until he hears the front door slam. Now fully awake and left with little else to do, he decides to call his best friend.

“Why are you awake at this hour?” Jisoo says in lieu of a hello.

“Sehun just left to meet Junmyeon.”

“His boss?” his friend asks, voice dropping to a deadpan. “Honestly, with the amount of time he spends working, you’d think he’ll want a break for the weekend. It seems like he’s in a relationship with his job instead of you.”

“He’s just dedicated. I love that about him,” he says in defense.

“What brought this on?” Seungcheol chimes in, curiosity lacing his tone. Jeonghan assumes Jisoo had put him on speakerphone not long after taking his call.

He twists his lips into a thoughtful pout, recalling how he was singing a different tune about his boyfriend’s behavior not long ago. Without going into the more sordid details, Jeonghan tells them about Sehun’s behavior the past couple of days.

“Seems like he found some time to get his head out of his ass,” Seungcheol comments with a snort. “I wonder how long that’ll last.”

Jeonghan can’t bring himself to be mad at his friends, not when both of them know just how much pain he’s gone through over the course of his relationship with Sehun. It wasn’t that his boyfriend was particularly hurtful. Jeonghan just expected more. It’s not that he was counting the things he’s given Sehun or making a tally of the sacrifices he’s made. Jeonghan just wishes his boyfriend shows how much he appreciates him.

“When do you plan to tell him about the offer you got?”

The question pulls Jeonghan out of his reverie, lips pressing into a thin line. He hadn’t really thought about saying anything about it, not when the week was coming to a close.

“You can’t do this again, Jeonghan,” Jisoo says exasperatedly. “You’ve been waiting for this chance for a long time. You gave it up once, you can’t do it again!”

“Hey,” Jeonghan says ruefully. “I know what I’m doing, ok? Trust me.”

They hang up not long after, neither Seungcheol nor Jisoo commenting any more about the performing arts center's offer or theirs, for that matter. Jeonghan gets up from bed then, figuring he can busy himself with preparing brunch or cleaning up a bit. His cheeks go pink when he steps on Sehun’s pants from last night, resolving himself that tidying up their bedroom was a must after he gets his fill.

Things don’t go according to plan when he receives a text from Sehun, telling him he has a schedule at the spa he likes so he needs to get ready to leave. When Jeonghan asks about the sudden appointment, he only gets one line as a reply.

_We have plenty to celebrate tonight, you and me._

Jeonghan is back home from the spa at 4PM, with Sehun scheduling him for half a day’s worth of treatments. Any soreness he got from the night before has gone away, making him feel more relaxed than ever. He has just enough time to get ready for their dinner, hoping that he doesn’t encounter any heavy traffic.

Jeonghan arrives at the restaurant just a few minutes before their 7PM reservation. The maître d’ escorts him through the floor, leading him down a secluded hallway, before finally taking him into a private room. It surprises Jeonghan as he was certain he only requested for a table by the window. What amazes him even more was seeing Sehun already in the room, a bouquet of tea roses in hand.

“You’re here,” Jeonghan notes breathlessly.

“I told you I’d make it on time, didn’t I?” Sehun replies with a slight smirk. “I know I don’t always make good on my promises, but it’s not too late to start, right?”

Jeonghan lets out a choked laugh, hoping that tears won’t fall.

“Your face just tells me how much you came to expect the worst of me,” Sehun sadly notes, only to perk up a split second later. “Let’s change that, huh?”

Dinner was off to a good start with Sehun ordering for both of them, choosing the dishes he knew were Jeonghan’s favorites. Before their waiter brought in the main course, he had also asked for a bottle of red wine, making Jeonghan tilt his head in wonder.

“Seungcheol called me earlier,” Sehun says the moment their waiter left the room.

Jeonghan takes a deep breath and holds it, wondering what one of his best friends had done. A soft smile blooms on Sehun’s lips, no doubt aware at how nervous his boyfriend was.

“When were you planning to tell me about Japan?” Sehun decides to continue when Jeonghan remains silent. “The chance doesn’t come for many people, and it came to you twice. I won’t let you give it up again.”

“I don’t want to leave Korea,” Jeonghan finally says in a firm tone. “I don’t want to uproot my life just for that.”

“You’ve wanted to join an orchestra ever since you graduated university. You’re an amazing teacher, but you’re a more spectacular violinist,” Sehun points out. “It may not be the philharmonic, but the Hyogo Performing Arts Center is notable in itself.”

“It’s a three-year contract,” Jeonghan argues. “Are you telling me you’ll be fine with me leaving for that long? Or is this you trying to break up with me?”

“Who says you’re going alone?”

Jeonghan drops his fork in shock, eyes wide in confusion as he stares at his boyfriend. “What?”

“I said we were celebrating, you and me,” Sehun starts. “When I met with Junmyeon this afternoon, I ended up schmoozing with a few other business execs. I was so worried I wasn’t going to make it on time because so many things were going on. Junmyeon gave me a way out because he knew I wanted to tell you as soon as I can.”

Jeonghan braces himself for whatever news Sehun wants to deliver, sitting on the edge of his seat while his boyfriend casually takes a sip of his wine.

“I’m getting a promotion. There are two spots open, one here in Seoul office and another in Osaka.”

A gasp leaves Jeonghan’s lips right then, realizing what Sehun was trying to say. If Jeonghan were to take the offer from the Hyogo Performing Arts Center Orchestra and Sehun were to take the promotion in Osaka, it will only take roughly half an hour’s commute. They can get an apartment somewhere in the middle to make the travel time between home and their respective work places even shorter.

“Sign the contract,” Sehun says with finality. “Come away with me.”

Tears well up in Jeonghan’s eyes, a few stray drops traveling down his cheeks. Sehun gets up from his seat to pull the younger boy in his arms, pressing tender kisses all over his face.

“Don’t cry,” Sehun says pleadingly. “This is supposed to be a happy moment.”

“I know,” Jeonghan whines. “I’m ecstatic! These are happy tears.”

“Happy anniversary. I love you.”

They spend the rest of dinner making tentative plans, painting a happy life together wherever they may end up. Jeonghan tries to remain as positive as possible, not wanting the night to ultimately come to its end.

After finishing off two bottles of wine throughout their meal, Sehun suggests that they just take a cab home and come back the following morning to get their car. Jeonghan is too dumbstruck to say anything else, allowing himself to be shuffled into a waiting taxi. He knows this isn’t how things are supposed to happen.

At a seemingly clear intersection several blocks down, their cab driver stepped on the gas as soon as the light went green. It drove right into the path of a pickup truck that ran a red, hitting the passenger side with a force strong enough to turn the taxi around, another car that failed to hit the brakes early colliding with it again before sandwiching the cab against a street post.

Jeonghan likes to lean his head against the window, but this time, Sehun was right there, seemingly protecting him from what was happening. In the few moments before the collision took place, Sehun turned his back to the window and smiled serenely at him.

“Whatever happens, please know that I love you with everything I have in me.”

Jeonghan felt completely helpless as emergency responders struggled to get them out of the cab. Sehun’s ragged breathing was all the hope he can hold onto.

Jeonghan later finds himself in the back of the ambulance, face ashen as paramedics work to keep Sehun alive. He knows how it supposedly ends, tears falling at having to go through the ordeal from the other end of the spectrum. He was hoping for a different ending, or to at least have woken up long before this point.

Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, and Jongin find Jeonghan alone in front of the emergency room, sitting ramrod straight as if he was preparing for a scolding.

“How is he?” Junmyeon asks breathlessly as Jongin and Kyungsoo take a seat on either side of Jeonghan, gripping his hands as a feeble means of support.

“He’s gone. They couldn’t save him,” Jeonghan replies, words turning into sobs at each word that passes his lips.

None of his friends know what to say. While Jeonghan has lost the love of his life, Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, and Jongin had lost a good friend.

“If you need anything,” Jongin starts after several minutes of heavy silence. “We’re here, ok?”

Kyungsoo and Junmyeon nod in agreement, the former excusing himself to talk to a doctor and nurse about any procedures they need to take care of.

Jeonghan takes deep breaths to quiet his cries before speaking again. “I need to call Seungcheol.”

 

* * *

 

Jeonghan wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache. It wasn’t at all surprising, but he’s thrown out of sorts when he realizes what woke him up in the first place. There were sounds of pottering in the kitchen, the smell of bacon filtering through the gap under his bedroom door. He springs up in alertness when he notices the state of his room, clothes neatly stacked at the foot of his bed and boxes lined against the far wall. He takes a quick glance at the clock, picking up the two pieces of aspirin and glass of water, and downing the pills to alleviate his hangover. He guesses he has to thank Seungcheol or Jisoo, or perhaps both, for being kind enough to drop in.

He gets up once the world stopped spinning long enough, washing his face and brushing his teeth to get rid of the remnants of yesterday’s binge. Whatever mess he’s left as, his friends will just have to deal with it.

It’s spring, three months after that fateful night that took Sehun’s life. It’s been three months of Jeonghan trying to figure out why destiny was so cruel. He was the one who was supposed to die in that accident, but he’s the one who has to live with the heartbreak instead.

In his sequence of events, his last thoughts were hoping that Sehun knew how much he was loved and wishing that he could feel that love in return for one last time. Why was it that when Jeonghan finally got his wish, he still couldn’t be happy?

“Come sit down and eat,” Seungcheol says from his spot at the table. “The movers will be here in an hour to pick up your stuff. So if you have any last minute things to pack or take out of those boxes, now is the time.”

“What time is our flight again?” Jeonghan asks, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.

“Not until the early evening,” Jisoo replies as he sets down a cup of coffee for Seungcheol.

Jeonghan heaves a sigh, having difficulty in accepting what he was leaving behind.

Seungcheol and Jisoo share a sad look, both reaching out for Jeonghan’s hands.

“We know how hard it is to not have Sehun around anymore, but we’re here to help you with anything you need. He would have wanted this for you.”

Jeonghan cries for the umpteenth time, neither of his best friends trying to stop him.

If only they had paid enough attention, they would have noticed the watch on his wrist was running backwards.


End file.
